


It Don't Mean A Thing

by sleepylilgeeky



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 1930s music, Bucky just wants to listen to music from his childhood, Bucky still doesn't know how to use a phone, Dancing, Gen, It Don't Mean A Thing, Minnie the Moocher, Music, Possibly Before TFatWS, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), SING SING SING, Sam is hilarious, Spotify, Swing Dance, They totally like other, Unrequited Crush, dancing!au, mentions of lots of 30s music, mentions of the Cryo use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 17:34:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20474912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepylilgeeky/pseuds/sleepylilgeeky
Summary: Bucky hates when it's silent because usually the apartment is filled with noise, whether it was from the Kitchen, the Television, or Sam's unusually loud footsteps. But Sam is on a morning run and Bucky is alone in a silent house. So, he might as well mess with the phone Sam got him.So Bucky decides to look up music, from the 1930s, in hopes to find some music that could spark memories of his past self. Sam comes home to see Bucky deeply listening, which ensues Sam to want to listen to the music and possibly even dance with the man he lives with.





	It Don't Mean A Thing

**Author's Note:**

> I am such SamBucky trash. I've legit been thinking of nothing but head canons and that's how this came about. I just thought it would be nice if Sam were to walk in on Bucky listening to music from when he was younger, specifically the 1930s, and even get the metal armed man to dance with him.
> 
> Also known as author decides to indulge her love of 30s music into a fic that has a man who grew up during the 30s.
> 
> Deadass, we did a Jazz show in my Marching Band and we did Minnie the Moocher and Sing, Sing, Sing.
> 
> Anyway. Enjoy.

Bucky blinked his eyes open, letting them adjust to the morning sun that peeked its ways through the blinds into his room. He rubbed the sleep from the corners of his eyes with his flesh hand, letting out a silent yawn before rolling over. He sighed softly before pressing his hands to the mattress to push himself up into a sitting position.

He blinked a few times to erase the blurriness from his eyes, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and placing his sock-clad feet against the cool hardwood floor. He yawned once more, giving his head a little shake at the end and licked the dryness feeling from his lips.

It was rather quiet in the little apartment that he shared alongside Sam; usually there was always some type of noise going on in the house at all times, whether it be the beeping of the microwave or the sounds coming from the television in the living room or even just Sam’s unusually loud footsteps.

Bucky looked over to the night stand and reached out to grab the phone that was still plugged up. He pulled the cord from the socket and let it drop to the floor, letting his fingers run over the coolness of the glass. He still didn’t exactly know how to work the phone, as it has only been a few months since he and half of the Earth had come back from Thanos’s decimation, and since then he’d try to catch up on a lot of modern technologies but ended up getting frustrated and leaving it alone.

He clicked the power button on the side and let his eyes adjust to the screen, which showed the time at being only twenty eight minutes past ten. Underneath the bulky numbers was the little box that just said _Falcon is the Best_, a name set by Sam Wilson himself when he gave it to Bucky almost a month and a half ago.

Bucky slide his finger across the screen, getting it to unlock and pull up Sam’s message. Once he did, he read that it was just Sam informing him that he was going on a run and that he would be back in a few hours. That was sent almost two hours ago. Bucky didn’t know whether or not to respond to the message so he just turned the phone off and slid it into the pocket of his sweatpants.

Bucky walked out of his bedroom, stopping to stretch again before making his way to the kitchen. It was really too quiet in the apartment and the feeling wasn’t settling inside Bucky. Sam had been complaining to Bucky about his lack of running, but the months of adjusting to life after the decimation was taking a toll on everyone around. So Bucky was content that Sam was finally doing something he’d been wanting to do for a while.

He just didn’t like the silence.

Silence brought him back to the being put in the Cryo. Standing there, waiting for the pause button to be clicked on his life. Silence brought him back to the feeling of being alone in his old apartment that was in Bucharest, as he had to be quiet, in fear of being caught and sent back to the darkness of that old room so he could be electrocuted and thrown back in the Cryo.

Pulling himself from his thoughts, he turned and clicked the five minute button on the microwave, letting the whirl of the machine produce sound for him to hear. He pulled open the door to the refrigerator, pulling out the container of orange juice and then grabbed two plastic cups from the cupboard above him, filling them both up but placing the container and one glass back in the fridge, _for Sam, so he doesn’t drink from the bottle again_, Bucky thinks with a smirk before grabbing his own glass and heading over to the small living room area.

He drank his orange juice and fiddled with the remote beside him, debating whether or not to turn the TV on but he decided against it. The whirling of the microwave stopped, emitting five loud beeps before stopping completely and pulling the room back into silence. Bucky closed his eyes and sighed. Opening them once again, he placed his cup down on the coaster on the coffee table and stuck his hands into his pocket, pulling his phone back out.

Bucky unlocked his phone and slid his fingers around on the screen, thumb hovering over the little square icons on the screen. _Apps?_ As Sam had told him when he tried teaching him how to use the phone. Bucky is pretty sure he hasn’t even touched half of the things that Sam made him download but he clicked one app he did know from how many times that Sam had made him turn the app on for him and click play.

Bucky tapped the little black icon with a green circle in it that had three little black curved lines above each other. It was an app for music. Just something for him to be able to play to get some noise inside the apartment. It was Sam’s account that was logged in so Bucky just clicked the little play button at the bottom of the screen which showed Sam’s last played song.

Immediately the sound of a fast electronic shake filled the room and the lyrics to _It’s Tricky_ by Run-D.M.C burst through the little speaker on Bucky’s phone and he scrunched his nose up and clicked pause again. He didn’t know how old that song was but it was completely different than what he could partially remember of the music he heard growing up.

But that was also almost one hundred years ago and everything has changed since then.

Everything.

_Do they even have music from then on here?_ Bucky asked himself, his face scrunched up in confusion. He relaxed himself as he looked at the screen. _It’s 2024, they might have everything?_

Bucky clicked the little button that looked like it had a magnifying glass on it and underneath read _Search._ He clicked on it and it pulled him up another screen with lots of options but he clicked the little bar underneath the bigger word of _Search._

_30s._ He typed.

His eyes lit up with amusement as he saw the whole screen fill up with lots of different tabs that involved his search. He let out a small laugh as he saw Swing written along one of the tabs and he clicked the first tab he saw, bringing him to what seemed to be lists of titles. He couldn’t remember what any songs from back then were called but he still scrolled and read over them trying to spark any remembrance.

Woody Herman. Cab Calloway. Bing Crosby. Duke Ellington. Ivie Anderson.

Before he continued, he leaned over to the small table beside the couch and pulled open the drawer, grabbing an unopened box and pulling out the wires and plugging them into the small adapting hole in his phone. He carefully placed the small white buds in his ear before looking back at the screen.

Some of those names sounded familiar, but he clicked the green button that said shuffle. Hearing the melodic clicks on piano keys, Bucky sighed in relief as the orchestra played along to, as the screen said, _I See Stars_ by Freddy Martin. He couldn’t remember the song, but the way the music sounded caused a small smile to tug at his lips. The next few songs played, all orchestra but Bucky continued to listen intently, feeling like he could remember beats of songs from before.

A certain song stuck out as soon as the first music notes hit:

_“Folks here’s a story about Minnie the Moocher...”_ The artist, Cab Calloway, spoke softly alongside the instruments, _“She was a red hot hoochie coocher…”_

Bucky could remember this song. He remember it in the back of his mind, almost very vaguely but the melodic beat pulled him as he listened to the artists voice, and almost like an instinct, he joined along with the artist, softly whispering the next few lines. “Hi-de Hi-de Hi-de Hi.” A call and response. In his mind he saw the mixture of white and brown, a cloud like memory he couldn’t fully place but he let the music continue to engulf him as Cab Calloway continued on.

Sam finished the last few steps up to his floor, feeling refreshed from his run from earlier. He hummed along to some song in his head as he made his way to the auburn wooded door of his and Bucky’s apartment. He placed the plastic bag he had in one hand down on the ground to reach for the apartment key and opened the door quietly.

He stopped in his tracks as he saw Bucky sitting on the couch, still dressed in his sleep clothes, but with his head leaning against the top of the back of the couch, eyes closed, but head sweep slowly left to right, like a beat. His hands were clasped together in his lap, a small smile tugged on his lips as Sam noticed the wires coming from Bucky’s ears.

Sam was surprised.

Not just because he saw that Bucky had managed to use something on his phone without any help but because he was watching Bucky sway his head to whatever music he was listening to and was smiling.

Sam quietly walked over, dropping the plastic bag onto the little island from the kitchen before walking over to the couch. The music had to be loud in Bucky’s ears for him not to even budge his eyes open to be aware of the other person who lived in the apartment. As Sam got closer, he heard soft sounds of loud drums and trumpets, maybe even a trombone?

He smirked before stopped just behind Bucky and dropping his weight down onto the top of couch as he said-, “What’re you listening to?”

The sudden movement made Bucky jump. His eyes darting open, alert as he clenched his metal hand into a fist, almost like an instinct. He ripped the headphones from his ears and tossed them beside him as he caught glimpse of Sam, who he just realized was home, but he was smirking and Bucky knew that meant he had been there for a while.

“Christ!” Bucky stated, breathing heavy as he glared back at Sam. He slowed his breaths down, still feeling the rapid beating inside of him. This wasn’t the first time Sam had scared Bucky, especially since he thought it was hilarious to do so. “How long have you been there?”

Sam shrugged, standing straight back up before walking around and plopping down beside Bucky, outstretching one leg on the coffee table, the other leg halfway on Bucky’s own, “’Bout five minutes?”

Bucky wanted to say something but he closed his mouth again before sighing, looking back to his phone where the music was still going, but going unlisten to. He clicked the bigger pause button that appeared on his lock screen before looking back at Sam and pushing his leg off his, “Why do you do that?”

“Why do I do what?” Sam asked, watching Bucky roll his eyes in response. “Now. I asked you a question. What have you been up to today? Besides reading my text and not responding.”

Bucky sense the joke in Sam’s voice, “Just listening to music.”

“Ooh, whatchu’ listening to? Post Malone? Cardi B? Beyonce?” Sam joked, snorting softly at the confusion on Bucky’s face. “Kidding. Nah, but seriously,” He dropped his tone, looking down at Bucky’s phone, which was clenched in his right hand, and back up to Bucky. “You’ve barely used that phone but you looked happy.”

“Just music.”

Sam hummed in response, “Like…”

“Just music… from when-,” Bucky stopped, dropping his gaze to his lap, “When I was younger. I didn’t know they had options like that.”

Sam widened his eyes in surprise, “Oh. Yeah. There’s lots of people who listen to old music.” He watched Bucky scrunch his face up at the mention of old, “Yes. Old. You one hundred year old Geezer.”

Bucky let out a small chuckle, “Shut up Sam.”

“Nah, but like, seriously,” Sam stifled through a laugh, “What kind of music? Like Frank Sinatra, or was that after? Hm. I heard the toots of the horns from your headphones.” Bucky looked back at the cords still plugged into his phone, “You really are an old man with those headphones turned up all the way. Losing that hearing already.”

“Stop.” Bucky shoved Sam with his metal shoulder, almost pushing Sam towards the edge of the couch. “I don’t really remember names but I remember- I remember like the sounds? I guess. If that makes sense. I don’t remember much, since the whole, process, happened.”

“Hook that bad boy up to the speaker.” Sam said, clapping a hand down on the cushion beside Bucky’s thigh and stood up, “We can listen to your old tunes while I make some lunch.”

“I don’t know how.” Bucky responded, handing his phone over to Sam.

“Damn old people.” Sam rolled his eyes, connecting Bucky’s phone to the blue tooth speaker that sat under the TV stand before going to the kitchen, leaving Bucky in the living room, still staring down at his phone.

The sounds of a beating drum sounded through the air, followed by a mix of trombones and trumpets. Sam nodded his head along to the beat as he pulled the box of pasta noodles from the bag. The beat was familiar, he had definitely heard the beat before. Soon enough he started swaying to the sound as the instruments picked up at the hit points, his dancing earning a decent sounded laugh from Bucky who stood across watching Sam.

“What’s so funny Barnes?” Sam asked, wiggling his hips as he poured the noodles into the pot of boiling water, “Isn’t this how people danced back then?”

Bucky laughed again, “I’m not fully sure but I doubt it was like that.”

“Swing music was the rage back then wasn’t it?” Sam continued to move his hips to the beat, “That’s where this song is from! Swing Kids!”

“Swing Kids?”

“A movie from the 90s.” Sam explained, “We’ll watch it sometime. Now show me how to dance from the 30s!”

Bucky shook his head, “I- I don’t dance.”

“Sure you do!” Sam exclaimed, turning the stove on low and wiping his hands on his sweatpants. He shuffled his feet over to where Bucky was standing and dragged him to a more open spot between the living room and the kitchen just as the next song played, “Ah perfect song! _It don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that swing._” Sam sung softly. “My grandma used to play this song all the time when I was young!”

Sam grabbed ahold of Bucky’s hand, flesh hand to flesh hand, flesh hand to metal hand. He dipped Bucky’s arms down as much as he could but Bucky was stiff. He continued to sway them to the beat, singing along to the voice of Ivie Anderson.

Bucky felt heat rising to his cheeks as he watched Sam make a complete fool out of himself as he tried to get them to dance. Bucky slightly remembered watching people dance through the windows when he was young, but all a cloudy memory but he knew it definitely wasn’t like how Sam was dancing.

“It was more classy back then.” Bucky stated, “But fast.” He pulled Sam in close, giving a small push to make Sam spin within his arms. Sam looked surprised but continued to dance, this time pulling Bucky in and making him spin. “I didn’t know you danced?”

“Where I come from Barnes,” Sam said, pulling Bucky back into his arms, “We danced a lot.”

Sam noted that Bucky had rhythm but was still holding back fully, but he gradually loosened up, swaying along to the beat with Sam, dancing all around the living room as the song continued to play on a loop. Sam kept letting out shrieks of ‘soulness’ into the music, causing Bucky to laugh out loud. They continued to dance among each other’s arms, Sam even dipping Bucky much to his enjoyment as Benny Goodman’s _Sing Sing Sing_ came back on.

The music faded out and Bucky and Sam both started laughing. Bucky clicked the pause button, still laughing but trying to catch his breath. Sam was smiling really big, infatuated with the redness in Bucky’s cheeks from him laughing, yet being out of breath.

“You’re a good dancer Barnes.” Sam said, “But I can teach you more moves.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, “As long as it’s to my music and not yours.”

“Whatever you say Barnes.”

Both of them paused for a moment before realizing how close they were still standing together. Sam had his hand still wrapped in Bucky’s right one, but burst out laughing again, slowly pulling away from one another, the hands were the last to drop but they bashfully looked at one another before sizzling sound pulled them away.

“Oh shit! My noodles!”

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment and let me know what you think! Kudos appreciated too!


End file.
